


Love of My Life

by lonelyhourglass47



Category: Twosetviolin
Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:54:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28815204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonelyhourglass47/pseuds/lonelyhourglass47
Summary: "If you were to meet the love of your life today, what piece of music would you play?"Brett can't think fast enough, and the five second time limit is killing him. As he raises his bow he realizes how utterly stupid this is.He plays Gymnopedie No. 1, starting at measure 22 and accenting three notes which he knows aren't meant to be accented.Eddy doesn't get it.-Based off of Twoset's video titled "What musical piece do you want played at your funeral?"
Relationships: Eddy Chen/Brett Yang
Comments: 7
Kudos: 63





	Love of My Life

**Author's Note:**

> Hello lovely readers, I wrote this as quickly as I could this morning and chose not to edit it, so please don't expect a masterpiece! I have four other ideas still for Twoset fics, so I've been a bit rushed to get all of my thoughts down.
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy, and feel free to leave a comment at the end!

“If you were to meet the love of your life today, what piece of music would you play?”

Brett can’t think fast enough, and the five second time limit is killing him. “Does it have to be a piece for violin?” he asks hurriedly, and Eddy makes a face.

“Why wouldn’t you play a violin piece? I mean, it’s up to you, though,” he decides with a shrug.

Eddy waves Brett off with a lazy hand and begins to count down from five, and Brett is trying to picture the sheet music of the piece he wants to play, searching for the specific part that could get his message across. He can’t find it, so he thinks of the second melody rather than the first, and there it is, and as he raises his bow he realizes how utterly stupid this is.

_It doesn’t start how normal love starts. They’ve always been best friends, and they love each other in that sense, but Eddy’s smiling wide at him after they play Navarra at one of their shows and a wild thought rips through Brett’s mind._

_I’m in love with you._

_He returns Eddy’s smile before glancing back out at the crowd. Do they have any idea what kind of crisis he’s just caused himself with that statement? Is it showing on his face? He looks back at Eddy, and the pat on the shoulder Brett receives is almost enough to distract him. Now is not the time to entertain his desire to kiss him; that can wait until they’re back home._

_“Good job,” Eddy says, squeezing his shoulder. Brett mumbles a “you too” and internally screams at himself to get it together. Those words press to the back of his teeth._

_I’m in love with you._

He plays Gymnopedie No. 1, starting at measure 22 and accenting three notes which he knows aren’t marked in the music to be accented. Eddy notices right away.

“Isn’t that technically a sad piece? And, dude, why are you accenting the E and D’s like that? It’s supposed to be a normal slur.” Eddy sounds more critical than he is, he’s only curious because he knows Brett has to be doing this on purpose for some reason, trying to be cryptic and all that. Eddy chuckles at the end of his sentence, and Brett sighs, lifting his bow and restarting the line, still accenting those three notes. “What are you trying to do?” Eddy mumbles, struggling to understand. Brett tries one more time, making eye contact with Eddy as he plays the line melodically aside from those three notes which he bows so hard that Eddy fears for his A string. He doesn’t get it.

He wants to get it.

When Eddy only stands there and doesn’t say anything, Brett’s sure it hasn’t clicked, and he gives up, closing his eyes and playing through the rest of the piece beautifully. When he’s finished, he looks defeated for some reason.

“I’m not sure the love of your life is going to like those accents, Brett,” says Eddy, smiling through his confusion.

“Apparently the love of my life sucks ass at violin charades,” Brett mumbles, and Eddy hardly hears him but the words don’t register until much, much later.

_He hasn’t allowed himself to think about it. Months pass, and every fleeting thought of standing up on his tiptoes to press his lips to Eddy’s, he swallows down with a mouthful of bubble tea._

_Brett has half a mind to get a girlfriend as a distraction, but he can’t bring himself to do so with the knowledge that he’ll break some poor woman’s heart down the road._

_This predicament renders him unable to sleep until he sees the sun cascade over the horizon in the morning. On particularly rough nights, he blasts the loudest classical music he can think of in his headphones to jumble his thoughts so that he can’t imagine Eddy in bed with him, locking their lips as he takes Brett’s hand to entwine their fingers. Can’t imagine resting his head on Eddy’s chest before they begin to drift off together, their bare skin illuminated by the moonlight visible through the light curtains._

_After a sleepless night, he wanders into the kitchen to see Eddy already awake, and before he can mumble a tired greeting Eddy’s thrusting a fresh cup of coffee into his hands._

_“How did you sleep?” he asks Brett, who takes a sip of the drink before responding._

_“I slept alright,” he lies, relishing in the taste of Eddy’s perfect brew. Eddy seems glad to hear it. Despite how much he’s shoved it down, the thought pops back to the surface when Brett sees that familiar smile on his friend’s face._

_I’m in love with you._

_He has to tell Eddy to lift the weight from his shoulders, even if it’s combatted by rejection. If he could say the words somehow, he has no choice but to do so in order for his mind to stop shouting at him to hide the way he glances at Eddy, to be surreptitious in every movement he makes in the presence of his friend for fear that Eddy would see right through him and discover the earth-shattering secret on his own, when Brett is unprepared._

_He has to tell him._

Only when Eddy’s trying to sleep that night, lying on his back on his bed with the covers pulled up high, blinking up at the ceiling, does a possibility come to mind.

He shoots straight up into a sitting position. His mouth falls open.

E-D-D

E-D-D

_Eddy?_ Is the love of Brett’s life Eddy?

He hears footsteps down the hall, the piercing sound of his door cracking open, and Brett peeks inside his room. “Hey man, are you okay? I heard rustling in here. It’s almost four in the morning.”

Eddy wonders why Brett is awake this late too, and he can only stare at him, his eyes wider than he intends them to be and Brett lets his hand slip from the doorknob, his arm falling to his side.

“You figured it out,” he says and turns to leave. Eddy hears him mutter something like, “Fuck this, I’m so stupid, you would think since he loves that piece I could win him over or some cheesy shit…” It’s all he can discern before Brett is too far away from him, and he has to close that gap.

Eddy bolts out of bed and chases after him, catching up when Brett falls onto the couch. Eddy flops on top of him, causing Brett to squeal and curse. “What are you doing?” he demands.

“The love of your life, huh?” Eddy asks, smirking down at Brett. He snakes his fingers down Brett’s arms until he finds his hands, entwining their fingers like Brett had imagined too many times to count. The reality of it now makes his heart beat too quickly for his liking. “I would play it back, but the only notes I can do for that are B and E.”

It takes Brett a second, but when he understands it he laughs, relieved, overjoyed. Moisture comes to his eyes as he wheezes from the laughter, and Eddy feels the need to ask whether he’s okay. “I’m okay,” he giggles, and then sobered up and quiet, “I love you.”

Eddy smiles wide and leans down, his face hovering mere inches from Brett’s. “You’re a dork,” he whispers, immediately closing the gap between them before Brett can complain. He tastes like butter, Eddy thinks, kissing him gently, which is far more pleasant of a sensation than it sounds. He tastes like butter.

Eddy pulls away to allow Brett to breathe, staring into his eyes as Brett’s pupils expand and his lips part beneath Eddy’s gaze. Eddy ruffles his hair for a moment but lets his fingers remain there, threading through the dark locks. “You’re a dork, Brett Yang,” he repeats, shaking his head as his smile broadens. Brett is entranced by watching Eddy above him, and he struggles to respond.

He doesn’t have to. Eddy giggles back at him, leaning in close to steal another kiss. “And I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> If this actually happened in a video, I think we would all go insane wondering if Brett did it on purpose or not.
> 
> Thank you for reading :)


End file.
